CrimsonTide
by Mike16
Summary: After being gravely wounded in a battle against Rasko Bloodtail, Lord Moonstripe, badger lord of Salamandastron sends a messenger to the those who dwell in Redwall Abbey. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Redwall and all of its respective properties are owned by Brain Jacques.  
  
  
Flames of rage burned in the eyes of Lord Moonstripe as he stared at the corsair ship bobbing up and down in the waves. CrimsonTide was anchored a few hundred feet from the coast, its decks teething with vile, coldhearted rats. But none was more evil than Rasko Bloodtail.   
  
The rat was far bigger than any rat Moonstripe had ever seen. He had one ear and was dressed in an elegant cloak that was covered in red stains, blood from the innocents whose lives he took. He had one ear, the other had been lost in battle, and his right cheek sported a long scar that ran from his one ear down to his mouth. His two fangs had been replaced with solid gold ones, ten times sharper and more deadly than the last. A long, wickedly curved cutlass was strapped to his side and his face and ears were ornamented with countless loops and earrings.   
  
Tired of watching and waiting for Rasko to make his move, Moonstripe got up and stalked out of his private chambers and into the heart of Salamandastron, the mountain of the fire lizard, his mountain. The badger lord paid little attention to the numerous hairs running about, he headed straight to the chambers of his First Officer, an old, battle scarred hare named Polko. Without bothering to knock, he stormed into Polko's room. The hare jumped backward startled, before realizing that it was Moonstripe.   
  
"Sire, yeh jolly well scared the pants off me!" Polko said, pulling up into a sharp salute.  
  
"He's up to something." Moonstripe said coldly, taking a seat in a nearby chair.  
  
"Who's up to wot? The hair asked, twisting his long ears around each other in a quizzical manner.  
  
"Rasko, he's just waiting for something." Moonstripe said, inwardly going over the recent events. Less than half a season ago, Rasko came to the shores surrounding Salamandastron, whether on purpose or by accident, Moonstripe did not know. But, like most creatures, Rasko bought into all the lies about there being a huge treasure hidden in Salamandastron, and now he was determined to take it. There had been a few minor skirmishes, with none resulting in major casualties for either side. Rasko however, thought he was making progress and continued sending in more rats. Then a few days ago, he stopped, and hadn't made a move since.  
  
"Well Sire, whatever he's planning, we'll jolly well be ready for the blaggard wot, wot?" The comical hair cut a small little jiggy, stabbing his paw out at the air. "Give em blood 'n vinegar, right milord?"  
  
"No. I'm tired of these pathetic skirmishes. Were ending this. Send a message to Rasko, telling him that tomorrow night, were ending this."  
  
"Sire, I'm in total bally agreement with you, but we can't exactly just jolly well swim out to his ship. We'd be pumped full of arrows before we even laid a paw on the bally deck!"   
  
"Hmmm, your right old friend. Come with me." Moonstripe led the hare upstairs, though it was unnecessary Polko knew where they were going. Up in the very top of Salamandastron, there was a chamber that had been carved into the perfect echo chamber. Whenever a creature spoke inside the room, the sound would be magnified several times that could deafen a creature if they spoke too loud. Moonstripe stopped before the entrance, motioning for Polko to stay outside.  
  
"Stay out here, and cover your ears." Polko nodded, folding his ears down and covering them with his paws. Moonstripe pressed his muscular back against the giant stone slab that served as the door, and pressing his footpaws into the floor for leverage the badger heaved on the huge door. Polko marveled at the strength of his Lord, it would take a score of hares to move the stone. With much creaking and scratching the door slid inward, revealing a near perfectly round chamber. A large gap at the far end faced directly towards CrimsonTide. Moonstripe repeated the same pushing process and shut the chamber off. He walked right up to the window, his great bulk shaking as his great voice boomed out.  
  
"RASKO! DO YOU HEAR ME RAT?! THIS PATHETIC CHARADE ENDS TOMMOROW NIGHT! TOMMOROW NIGHT YOU WILL TASTE STEEL!" 


	2. Chapter 2

Extract from the writings of Morlan, Recorder of Redwall Abbey.  
  
Ah, it is the summer of the Crystal Trout, and everybeast in Redwall is buzzing in preparation for the feast. Just thinking about the October Ale, deeper'n ever pie, meadowcream trifles, strawberry cordial, summer salad, the Dibbuns honeymoles makes my mouth water in anticipation...oh have I strayed off topic yet again? Silly me, I guess as the seasons go by so does your ability to think straight! Now where was I...Ah yes, the feast!   
  
It is in celebration of the naming of our new abbot, a strong young squirrel by the name of Melfyn. He is the youngest abbot in the history of our Abbey, and in his first day of service he has done a spiffin' good job if I do say so myself! In fact, the piece de' resistance at the feast is a trout that was caught by Melfyn himself! I managed to pop by the kitchens today to see the migty fish, and what a whopper! Almost three and a half pounds it was!A little bit of meadowcream would go perfect with the trout...with maybe a little October Ale to wet my whistle whilst I dig into that luscious fish.... Oh dear me, once again my greedy gut has gotten the better of my mind!  
  
On another topic, Lathias, our Abbey Champion, brings news that Log a Log and his Guosim shrews will be in attendance for tonight's feast! Friar Bucklo isn't too happy about that, he has to cook for an extra hundred mouths now! Also joining the Guosim will be Skipper and his otter crew, and Lady Scarlet and her squirrels. Ah, it is going to be a wondrous night!  
  
I do believe I just heard the dinner bell, so I think I shall put down my quill in favor of the fork! As they always say, the fork is mightier than the sword! Or...something along those lines. So now I must g....  
  
  
A well-aimed ball smacked right into the old recorders head, making him drop his quill and spill ink all over the parchment. Morlan rubbed the back of his head as he turned to see Lathias standing in the doorway, with a picture of perfect innocence on his face.   
  
"Look what you've done you...you.... You Dibbun!" Morlan said angrily, thrusting the ruined paper at the grinning mouse.   
  
"Oh calm down old one! The feast is starting!" Lathias said, daftly knocking the ink-soaked parchment from the recorders grasp.   
  
"Old one eh? You better start running or I'll..." Morlan began, but Lathias was already sprinting away. Hitching up his green habit, the recorder took off after the young warrior, a smile on his face as the smell coming from inside restored his good cheer. 


End file.
